P5X 39 Whatever!
by sandwiches
Summary: A rather unusual return home. Warning: some clothing may have been lost in the writing of this fic! SJ. Complete.
1. Disrobing

Disclaimer: Just having fun with the characters for a little bit. Promise to give them back. Don't own them, never will. Sigh...

**Disrobing**

So, their last mission had been a blast, apparently.

If you weren't a member of SG1, that is.

After all, everybody getting so close to downright nekkid was just sooooo darned funny.

If you weren't them.

But she was. One of them. And she was currently massively embarrassed.

As she walked through the corridors of the SGC, she avoided looking at any of the personnel she passed. She might be fully dressed now, but she was well aware of the efficiency of the base grapevine.

She knew they were beyond curious.

They were probably betting.

It galled her.

Remembering how they had all fallen through the gate, in only their underwear, just relieved to be home.

And then the wide eyes and the stifled laughter of the masses and the General's voice, so harsh.

"Are you injured?" he had asked.

At the Colonel's negative, he had barked, "Get dressed and into the briefing room now."

God, he was not happy.

The debrief had been suitably subdued. There was no doubt that despite the odd circumstances of their capture and return, they had all followed proper SOP.

Nothing untoward had occurred between any of the members of the team.

She had watched as the General breathed an internal sigh of relief.

And now she was walking.

And she was ashamed. Not because of the nature of their return, though frankly that was reason enough to be feeling it.

But because one particular image from their humiliating disrobing would not leave her.

For all that Teal'c and Daniel were handsome and muscular, she had been internally unmoved when they had been laid bare.

But she just couldn't get it out of her head. Colonel O'Neill, her darned CO, the man she could not find attractive, ever, really was.

He was extensively scarred, most of his hair was grey, he was old, so much older than her, but for some reason, despite their situation, seeing his shirt ripped away had been indescribably hot.

He was almost lanky. But he was lean and massively strong.

So masculine.

She could see it.

She had once said that his abdomen was a miracle, but only because he was no longer a Jaffa.

She had so been in denial. His abdomen was a miracle, but so was the rest of him, now that she had seen almost all of it.

And she didn't know how things would ever be the same again.

She was in a real jam.

How could she go on, taking orders from him, being professional, when all she could see in her mind when she looked at him was his perfectly toned chest?

She knew she had to.

They had far too much to do.

But how?


	2. Debriefing

Disclaimer: Just having fun with the characters for a little bit. Promise to give them back. Don't own them, never will. Sigh...

**Debriefing**

He tapped his fingers restlessly on the table top. Athough they had met with the General shortly after their oh-so-humiliating and so very nearly naked return through the gate, it was time for the proper debriefing.

Debriefing. Ha diddley ha ha. About the only thing thing that hadn't happened back there.

He tried not to think about it. He really did, but what asshole scion of socio-political military geekdom (he was covering all bases) had, at some time in the distant past, decided to call this type of meeting a debriefing?

It made it hard not to think abut the events of the day. In all sorts of ways, some of which were also very wrong.

But he had to think about something to tune out Daniel's endless yammering about their latest hilarious cultural misunderstanding. Not briefs though. Definitely not black ones. Really not thinking about those. Or long, slender legs. That seemed to go on forever. Or the black sports bra that cupped and supported her...hell!

He was in a jam, maybe even a pickle. Nope, it was worse than that. He had boarded the express train to trouble and he knew it.

He had always believed he had honed his skills in the area of not thinking down to a fine art. Obviously not today. No. Not when it would have been actually helpful.

But he suddenly came up with a useful thought. This wasn't a debriefing. Oh no. It was a meeting on what had gone wrong. It was a...he struggled for a moment to phrase it properly in his mind...post-mission analysis! Yes!

He visibly brightened. He might even have been grinning.

That was until he realised where his eyes had been somewhat fixed for the last ten minutes. Let's just say that he had an epiphany of sorts, only sooo not a good one.

He sure hadn't been staring at the Major's face for the duration of the post mission analysis, anyway.

And that sort of thing would not, unfortunately, have gone by entirely unnoticed here. He could hope, but he really knew better. They would all have seen him gawping like a hormonal teenager at Carter's (admittedly awe inspiring but ultimately way off limits) breasts.

Damn!

He slammed his eyes shut, only to find that the events of the day had apparently burned some really inappropriate and unfairly hot visions of his 2IC onto the back of his eyelids.

Probably permanently.

He screwed up his face as the General spoke.

"Are you alright, Colonel?"

Then he blew it. Spectacularly. In true Jack O'Neill fashion, he engaged his mouth before his perfectly understandable male verbal smut filter had time to drop into place.

"Just something in my eyes, Sir."

He cringed inwardly. Given that Daniel had suddenly stopped gabbling about the darn-tooting wonderful people on P5X-39...whatever, it was clear that even the space monkey knew what had been in his eyes for a little while now.

He descrunched his face and sent an apologetic look towards the Major.

She was blushing. It was cute. She was soooo hot.

Oh crap!


	3. Daniel And Denial

Disclaimer: Just having fun with the characters for a little bit. Promise to give them back. Don't own them, never will. Sigh...

**Daniel And Denial**

Daniel Jackson watched with some amusement in the doorway.

There were several reasons for his amusement.

Firstly, that Colonel Jack O'Neill was in his office.

Secondly, that Colonel Jack O'Neill even knew the location of said office.

Thirdly, Colonel Jack O'Neill's current state of obvious distraction. Mr Black Ops himself had not even noticed that Daniel had been standing here for the last five minutes, watching him as he repeatedly picked up the top file from the ludicrously, gloriously, magnificently large pile of paperwork that had long since overwhelmed his in tray, flipping open the cover, attempting to read it for a few moments and then placing it back again. So far, Daniel had counted seven genuine attempts at the reading of one report.

Really.

He decided to put the poor man out of his misery. Or maybe into it. He knocked on the open door.

Colonel Jack O'Neill looked up, his eyes narrowing.

"Daniel?"

"Jack?"

"Daniel. How did you find me here?"

He shrugged. "This is your office, Jack."

"Yes, Daniel. I know this. And I repeat, how did you find me here?"

As he walked in and slumped into a chair, all uninvited, Daniel adopted a casual tone. "Well, Jack, it's a great place for you to hide."

The eyebrows that Colonel Jack O'Neill had raised in response to his unwelcome intrusion into his office shot up yet further. He started to tap out a fast, possibly irritated, rhythm on the surface of his desk as he asked, "Hide, Daniel? Do tell. Why, exactly, would I be hiding?"

Daniel smiled mildly. "Something in your eyes, Jack?"

If looks could kill, he would be stone dead.

"Don't go there, Daniel."

"You're the one who said it, Jack."

He watched as Colonel Jack O'Neill reined in his not inconsiderable temper, with no small effort.

When he finally spoke, it was with his all too familiar sarcasm. "I'm not hiding, Daniel. When I said that there was something in my eyes, I didn't mean whatever you are thinking. I meant that there was something in my eyes! Did you come here for any other reason than to annoy me, by the way?"

Time for his plan.

"I just wanted to play a word game, Jack. You know, I say a word, you say the first one that comes to mind?"

That got him a suspicious look, but then he replied, "Daniel, will it get you out of my office any sooner if I say yes?"

He plastered on his purest, most innocent face. "As soon as it's done, I'll go, Jack. I promise."

Colonel Jack O'Neill thought about it for a couple of seconds. Then he sighed. "OK, Daniel. Shoot."

"Simpson"

"Homer"

"Ice"

"Hockey"

"Seven"

"Sisters"

"Pizza"

"Pepperoni"

"Fish"

"...ing"

"Cow"

"Farm"

"Texas"

"Hammond"

"Sam"

"Hot...damn you, Daniel!"

Oh, but Mr Black Ops could move fast. He barely got out of the office alive before he heard a yell of , "Stay out of my way for a while!" and the door slammed shut loudly behind him.

But as he scooted along the corridors of the SGC towards his own office, Daniel Jackson couldn't help but grin with renewed amusement.

Colonel Jack O'Neill was soooo in denial.


	4. Teal'c And The Truth

Disclaimer: Just having fun with the characters for a little bit. Promise to give them back. Don't own them, never will. Sigh...

**Teal'c And The Truth**

MajorCarter was most restless. She was looking at the adjusted naquadah generator, as far as he understood it for power fluctuations, but not with the acute intensity that he had become familiar with during his many years serving the Tauri at the SGC.

Her gaze would rest on the machine for a few moments and then flick away. She clearly could not focus on her work.

This was unlike her.

For all of the time he had known her, his sister-warrior had always been able to apply herself most diligently to any task she chose, sometimes for many days on end. He greatly admired this ability, particularly as during these extended periods of labor she appeared to only ever be sustained by coffee and blue jello.

The actions of O'Neill during the debriefing had disturbed her. This much was obvious. Despite the deep and true feelings they held for one another, which they had, out of duty, spoken of but once in the infirmary, this was unacceptable. Therefore, he was here to offer her his support.

He strode into her laboratory and stood in front of her.

"MajorCarter." He employed his most formal tone of voice.

She looked up in some surprise. "Teal'c."

He continued. "I wish to offer my services to you as your kaln'tor. It would be an honor if you would accept me as such."

Her eyes widened and then she blinked hard, three times. Her mouth opened and closed repeatedly, but she uttered no sound.

She appeared apprehensive at his statement. It took him some extended moments to realise why this was so.

It was his error. She could not yet possibly comprehend the services he was offering and may have misconstrued his meaning, with possibly embarrassing consequences.

He moved to reassure her.

"A kaln'tor pledges himself in a lifelong commitment to avenge any dishonor to one he considers family."

He observed as understanding dawned on her face, alongside no small measure of bewilderment.

"Oh. Thank you, Teal'c. And yes. I...I suppose."

He inclined his head respectfully. "Then it is done."

There was silence for a few moments. MajorCarter remained confused and questioned him. "Teal'c, please don't think I'm being ungrateful, but why now?"

He smiled menacingly. "O'Neill's conduct towards you in the debriefing today was disrespectful of your status as both a warrior and a scientist. I can, as your kaln'tor, seek retribution on your behalf, should you wish it."

Her eyes widened and she gestured frantically with her hands. "No, it's really not necessary, Teal'c!"

He continued. "Perhaps when we are sparring, I could..."

"No!" She shouted as she leapt to her feet. She was most perturbed. All was going according to plan.

He spoke again. "But his actions were inappropriate. Whilst I agree that our unfortunate capture and consequent disrobing showed that you are a magnificent woman, I do not think..."

She waved her hands at him, so he ceased speaking. And his comment on her physical appearance served it's purpose. She did not think about what she said next until it was too late.

"It's alright. Really. In truth I didn't...mind...much...OK, Teal'c, you didn't hear that, right?"

Her eyes were bright with concern, so he reassured her immediately.

"Indeed I did not, MajorCarter. My hearing has been most intermittent today."

She blushed most attractively. "Thank you, Teal'c."

"No, MajorCarter, thank you for accepting my pledge."

He moved to leave the room before turning back to her. This movement had no real purpose, but he had been following the adventures of the police detective Columbo on television and greatly admired the strange little man and his most erratic behaviour patterns.

"Before I depart, MajorCarter, there is one last thing I must inform you of. In my role as your kaln'tor, I will be honor bound to chastise O'Neill, should he offer you any further impertinence in the future. Even if you are married."

He paused, noticing the momentary panic that registered on her features, but then he smiled widely and inclined his head again. "To anyone, of course."

He acknowledged her pale smile of relief before he left the laboratory.

Now that he had determined that the depths of her feelings remained the same, it was imperative that he confer with DanielJackson, who was speaking to O'Neill at that very time.

As he moved away towards the office of his archaeologist friend, he thought back to the debriefing. Although both MajorCarter and O'Neill had both been discomfited, he did not agree with the fraternization rules of the Tauri military, so the reactions of them both had been almost...entertaining.

It reminded him of the Jaffa tale of the infant Go'auld, the Horus guard and the High Priestess of Ra.

This amused him greatly.

He chose not to notice the various Tauri, going about their business in the corridor, who flinched away from him as he suddenly and loudly guffawed in mirth.

After all, it was a very amusing tale.

Indeed.


	5. The Conference In The Commissary

Disclaimer: Just having fun with the characters for a little bit. Promise to give them back. Don't own them, never will. Sigh...

Author's note: I would like to thank those who have reviewed this fic thus far. So, big ups and other colloquialisms to the following: beverleycat (on your favourite authors list as well. Neat! A happy dance to you, my dear!), MandySg1 and StargateFan (again...great to see you guys still reading my stuff), kittn (thanks for pointing out the bits you liked best, that was amazingly helpful), Augusta, PhDelicious (it's true, s'rare you find T's perspective in fic), janissima, kippling croft, lynnmichelle (gotta love those Jaffa tales!), Natters (I'm worried I'm going to have to pay to get that chair of yours fixed one of these days, as I seem to keep making you fall off it, lol!), Vid Z., WarmTea, Verb, Sci Fi Fan Gillian (twice!) and LJEvans (also twice!). Also the people at 'As The Stargate Turns'. You're all lubberly. If it weren't for all of you guys, I wouldn't have gotten past part two and that would have been a shame, as even I have enjoyed the last two parts, despite having a hard time liking my own stuff!

"Fish..."

"...ing."

Hehehe...

**The Conference In The Commissary**

Teal'c did not find DanielJackson at his office, possibly because Dr Hendricks from SG14 was waiting there, yet again, for some assistance with a translation. He was aware that his friend, despite his infinite enthusiasm for languages, was beginning to find the black haired scholar tiresome.

Perhaps he could render the archaeologist some assistance in this regard. He would ask him after they had dealt with the matter at hand.

He found DanielJackson in the commissary, drinking his customary cup of coffee. It would be difficult to converse amongst the other members of the Tauri that were present, but it was also possible that the constant murmur of conversation would mask the important issue they had to discuss.

He seated himself cross the table from his colleague, who seemed most eager for him to impart the information he had gleaned from MajorCarter. His friend leaned forward and whispered.

"Soooo...did you do it?"

"Indeed."

"And did she...?"

"Indeed."

"Are you sure?"

"Indeed."

DanielJackson suddenly appeared most exasperated. "Teal'c, are you actually going to say anything other than 'indeed' during this conversation?"

"Indeed."

He paused.

His friend's brow furrowed in chagrin. "Stop it, Teal'c!"

In spite of their bond, it was most easy to exert force on DanielJackson's shackles and it was unfailingly amusing on every occasion.

He broke into a wide smile and inclined his head. "As you wish, DanielJackson."

"Well?" He leant forward and lowered his tone even more. "Jack said she is..._hot._"

He matched his voice to that of his friend. "MajorCarter indicated that O'Neill's attentions were not necessarily unwelcome. Although I did not hear her."

DanielJackson blinked. "What?"

"She requested that her comments remain unheard, and as her kaln'tor it was my duty to reassure her that my hearing was indeed intermittent."

DanielJackson blinked again. "Ooookaay, Teal'c. Um, I thought you made up the kaln'tor thing?"

"No, DanielJackson, I was in earnest."

His friend appeared a little surprised. "Really? Oh. How...quaint."

He raised a menacing eyebrow. "Are you casting aspersions onto Jaffa culture, DanielJackson?"

He watched as his friend realised that his phrase may be interpreted as offensive. He shook his head fiercely. "Ahh...no, Teal'c, I'm not. Really, I'm not."

He was certain he could hear some shackles rattling in his mind as DanielJackson changed the course of the discussion.

"Well, back to business! I really think that Thor is our best chance here. If he can bring outside pressure to bear, maybe something can be done for them. What do you think?"

Teal'c contemplated this.

"I do not think that GeneralHammond will approve of using the stargate to send an intergalactic message to the Asgard race for aid in assisting two of his officers illegally get their freak on, DanielJackson."

DanielJackson's eyes widened at his use of syntax. "Have you been watching MTV or something, Teal'c?"

He smiled widely. "Indeed. I have been a regular viewer since the advent of the 'Thong Song' some years ago."

DanielJackson nearly expelled the coffee from his mouth extremely suddenly. He noted with approval that his friend restrained himself from doing so, thus avoiding any unwelcome attention being called to them.

"The 'Thong Song'?"

He smiled. "Indeed, I found it most culturally stimulating."

"Oh." DanielJackson raised an eyebrow in apparent mirth. "Is that what they're calling it these days?"

Teal'c did nothing but wait silently until his friend recognised the lack of wisdom in such provocation and returned to the subject of O'Neill and MajorCarter.

It was naturally of no consequence that he had been right to be amused.

"Um, right. Where were we? Thor. Right. I'm not saying we should contact him solely about this, Teal'c, but we're bound to have dealings with him sometime soon. I'm just saying that when we do, we should maybe suggest that his intervention in this matter would be helpful."

"I fail to see how the mating of O'Neill and MajorCarter would be helpful to the Asgard, DanielJackson."

His friend's shoulders dropped noticeably as he struggled with this issue.

Tealc considered the matter.

"Perhaps if we did not request his intervention as a political measure, but as a personal favor, we may be more successful. Thor is most fond of O'Neill and MajorCarter has assisted him extremely ably in the past."

He momentarily reflected that it was a little unjust that the Asgard had yet to build the battleship 'Teal'c', but was interrupted from this train of thought by DanielJackson slapping his hand firmly on the surface of the table. When he spoke, his voice was most effusive.

"That's what we'll do, Teal'c! It's our best shot at this. I think you're right!"

Teal'c of Chulak thought that it was possible he had been amongst the Tauri for far too long. He had to prevent himself from rolling his eyes as he answered. He was aware that he was correct. Otherwise, why would he have spoken?

"Indeed."


	6. The Assumption Of An Asgard

Disclaimer: Just having fun with the characters for a little bit. Promise to give them back. Don't own them, never will. Sigh...

Author's note: Thanks to the following for their new reviews for this series..._Desert Blossom-by-the-Sea _(you so funny! lol!), _Verb_ (the opening line for an episode? That would rock!), _kittn_ (when is your next deadline? ;) lol!),_ StargateFan _(a good chap to you, too!), _feb04_ (indeed!), _Gwil_ (the best Teal'c stuff you've read? Can you say blushing?) and_ Lorettakay _(I'm glad you weren't drinking at the time, either, my dear! I am given to understand that this fic may have already caused the untimely death of one keyboard by pepsi sprayage!). An apologetic nod to _Sid_ about said keyboard. Sorry, sweetie! A big hey to all at_ As The Stargate Turns_. Y'know I think you're mad, lubberly fun, every one of you. And hey to _lostwlf_ who, despite being tired, was kind enough to review 'The Ideal Soldier', a ficlet I purely wrote to try and distract myself from the struggles I had writing this chappie. Cheered me up no end. Thank you all and bestest wishies.

**The Assumption Of An Asgard**

He had arrived in orbit some four Earth hours ago on board the 'Skadi', the vessel belonging to the High Council member Idun.

His own was currently undergoing repairs.

When Thor had spoken to O'Neill about the ongoing problems with his vessel, the human had chuckled. "Thor, buddy, you didn't think you could name it the 'Daniel Jackson' and have it actually stay _out _of the spaceship infirmary for more than five minutes, didja?"

His comment had been the source of some amusement. The ability of the archaeologist to sustain injuries was legendary, even amongst the Asgard. In fact, unbeknownst to his human friends, many of his race now spoke of receiving medical treatment as 'visiting Daniel Jackson'.

The Asgard were not without a sense of humor.

His business with General Hammond now complete,Thor carefully considered the two beings now standing in front of him. They had requested a private meeting with him and he had beamed them directly to his quarters aboard the 'Skadi'.

Daniel Jackson's voice had been halting as he had made their request. The Jaffa, Teal'c, did not choose to speak. Given the obviously uncomfortable state that the Doctor was in, Thor believed it to be a sign of the warrior's unnaturally advanced wisdom.

It was clear that this issue was one of great importance to them both, but it was very hard to understand why.

Interpersonal relationships between the Asgard had, for many centuries now, been almost purely intellectual. There were emotional ties to others, of course, but they had moved beyond the basic biological drive to form the close knit units that seemed to engender such powerful and sometimes destructive emotions in less advanced races.

It did not mean that each Asgard cared for all others equally. This would be impossible. For example, Thor himself did not care for Loki. As O'Neill had once said, Loki really had 'burned his bridges after burning Thor's house down too, with the cloning thing. Also, his_ village_.'

That had been very astute of his human friend, despite the fact that no Asgard had been resident in a village for millenia. Thor did not think that he was serious about the village, though.

He was still, in truth, struggling to compehend the idiomatic expressions of O'Neill.

He found it an intriguing mental excersize.

Yet, as he watched the apprehension on the faces of his two guests, he still failed to comprehend the reasons for them being so concerned with the lack of physical intimacy between the two remaining members of their team. He had assumed that in a 3A/584 society, this was a matter purely for O'Neill and Major Carter themselves, but apparently not.

How curious.

He was almost sorry that he could not assist them. If there were laws preventing such a union, as he had just been told, it was impossible for him to intercede on their behalf. The Asgard had their own rules, too.

He said so.

Teal'c stepped forward and loomed over him.

Thor suddenly thought that perhaps the ultimate end of his people, which was being brought about by the prolonged use of cloning for reproductive purposes, was, in fact, one of the _minor_ inconveniences of the process. It occurred to him, as he looked up towards the fierce visage of the Jaffa warrior, that the Asgard genetic engineers of old could have at least _attempted_ not to lose the tall gene. It was quite a challenge to be respected as the Supreme Leader of the fleet of one of the most powerful races in existence, when the top of your head only reached as far as everybody else's elbows.

"We do not request that you attempt to change the laws of the Tauri, SupremeCommanderThor."

Thor listened and tried not to be intimidated by the huge Jaffa. Whilst the Asgard geneticists had eradicated the tall gene, the fight or flight response had unfortunately remained. This, combined with Teal'c's use of his formal title, had him worried.

He liked all of SG1, their status as primitives aside, very much. He may just end up helping them.

Teal'c continued.

"But we do ask for your intervention in this case. We believe that the President of the United States would be willing to offer a special dispensation in the case of O'Neill and MajorCarter if you were to come forward and offer your support of such a state of affairs." He raised an eyebrow. "Indeed, given your guardianship of Earth under the Protected Planets Treaty, I fail to see how his immediate approval would not be forthcoming."

Thor contemplated this.

He was most fond of both O'Neill and Samantha Carter.

O'Neill was interesting. He was clearly a being used to violence, yet he had managed to maintain a basic sense of morality. This was unusual in the extreme. And his turn of phrase was always unique, not to mention a puzzle of the highest order.

Major Samantha Carter was, for her race, brilliant. It was true that her understanding of the universe was extremely simple in comparison to that of the Asgard. To begin with, she had no concept of plaitrons, which was amusing, to say the least. And there were several potentially dangerous forms of radiation that she didn't realise even existed. The majority of this was common knowledge to all Asgard. But, her scant scientific knowledge notwithstanding, she was, in her own limited way, quite extraordinary. He had also been surprised when she had hugged him, after her stupid replicator idea. Despite her blue eyes, which were almost intolerably light and unnerving to him, he had found her spontaneous gesture of triumph and affection quite warming.

Even if she had tasted the yellow and deemed it unpalatable.

He had no idea if the two were compatible, as he had no recent familiarity with mating processes.

He hoped that, if they should procreate, he would be spared the vision of another pair of the blue eyes of Major Carter. Asgard eyes only turned blue when they were dead. He had seen the dead eyes of his own previous bodies enough times to make the color blue distinctly harrowing.

At this point, he realised he would be assisting Daniel Jackson and Teal'c.

He had been considering the case in far too much depth for it to be otherwise.

As the two beings stood, nervously waiting for his final answer, he speculated silently on the price he could extract from them. It was not standard Asgard procedure to do so, but he was, as O'Neill would say, 'Playing in their ballpark now.'

Any material wants were something he could fulfil. He had already, upon Teal'c's insistence, transferred the 'Star Wars Trilogy' onto crystals for his own entertainment. He had found them fascinating, yet confusing.

He was interested in the drives of humans. Although he could not induldge in some of their physical practices, he was extremely curious about the ability they seemed to have to thrive on risk. There were some activities on Earth which he had observed that seemed foolhardy, but ultimately rewarding to those who took part. The Asgard had moved beyond this centuries ago and he remembered it, but only vaguely.

He would like to understand how such risk taking could be a positive force, once more.

Yes. He knew what he wanted.

He looked towards Daniel Jackson. " I will assist you, but there is something that I would like in return."

The archaeologist and the Jaffa warrior both looked anxious for a moment.

"I would like to learn to rollerskate."

He watched, with his customary curious detachment, as both the human and his Jaffa counterpart gaped at him in what he could only interpret as shock.


	7. The President And Permission

Disclaimer: Just having fun with the characters for a little bit. Promise to give them back. Don't own them, never will. Sigh...

Author's notes: Big ups to_ Verb _(I'd chip in for that phrase to be spoken by CJ as T too, hehehe!),_ BookWorm37 _(glad you liked the Thor POV) and _Vid Z _(happy your keyboard survived!). You are clearly all mad bonkers, having reviewed the last chapter within five or so _minutes_ of me posting! This, by the way, is _not _a bad thing, it is certainly inducing of the happy and makes me all the more eager to write! Also hey to _Lorettakay _(I can't believe I'd forgotten about the cowboy thing, made me smile all over again), _DragonChaos _(backatcha with the Bwahaha!), _kittn _(five minutes ago:) Harsh, lol!), _Gwil _(still blushing!), _feb04_ (my daughter thought it was sweet, too), _Peri of the elves _(glad you find it funny), _akiko-dono_ (I do watch Galactica and your cursing is appreciated!), _Intergalactic smart-ass _(the next blading sensation, now there's a vision!), _PhDelicious _(as always, your reviews are insightful and genuinely helpful) and _Albi _(due to my reaction upon reading your review, I shall indeed be requiring a place for myself in your support group. lol). And big hugs to all at _As The Stargate Turns. _Thank y'all kindly!

Sorry this chappie has taken so long, but sometimes RL just has to take you away from the fun for a little while. Just so as you know, there will be three further chappies after this one. I hope you enjoy them all. Bestest wishies.

**The President And Permission**

General George Hammond stared at the open door of his office in sheer disbelief as the red phone started to ring.

Blinking, he picked up the receiver.

"Hammond."

"I just had an interesting visitor, George."

George Hammond sat bolt upright, unconsciously and automatically, as he registered the voice of the Commander-In-Chief.

"Mr. President. When you say a visitor, do you mean a gray one?"

He heard a huff of amusement at the other end of the line. "Well, George, I would say he was a little pasty. I might also describe him as short, but _not_ to his face! After all, your reports state that he has control of a large amount of weaponry, so it wouldn't do to offend the little guy."

He smiled. "Probably not, Mr. President."

"Oh, George, leave the Mr. President when it's just us talking! And how did you know?"

He almost choked out his reply. "Well, Sir, he just beamed himself into this office, said ,'Greetings, General Hammond. I was successful', and rollerskated straight out the door!"

He was still, in fact, staring at said doorway in shock.

The leader of the free world actually chuckled at the other end of the line. "I was going to ask you about the skates."

General George Hammond was barely informed enough at this stage to provide a suitable answer. "From what Doctor Jackson told me, the price of his intervention in this matter was learning to rollerskate. Something to do with rediscovering the joys of taking physical risks. I'm not too sure, but..."

President Henry Hayes broke in. "Well, he sure didn't do any rediscovering of that here, George! The little guy seemed _scared _by the carpet in the Oval Office!" He started to laugh openly, breaking up his description of the scene. "You should have seen him! Kicking his little legs...skates stuck in the pile...moving nowhere..."

George Hammond rolled his eyes. Not enough to bring him up on charges, of course, but he had the feeling that the moniker 'the little guy' was going to stick to the Supreme Leader of the Asgard Fleet. The situation did sound very funny though.

"The carpet in the Oval Office is very plush, Sir. And I don't think the Asgard use that sort of flooring."

The President Of The United States hooted in amusement. "Oh, George, _stop_! That's just too much! It was hilarious!"

He calmed himself after a few moments. "Is he really one of the most powerful beings in the universe? Because I have to say, he sure doesn't look it."

"Well, yes, Sir. On this plane of existence, anyway."

Henry Hayes seemed to emit a slightly strangled sound. "Your job is too strange, George!"

He sighed and continued. "Anyway, back to business. The little guy made a request about two certain officers under your command."

"I thought as much, Sir." The upcoming conversation was making the General quite uncomfortable.

"I'm worried, George. This will set a precedent that I'm not sure should be set in the first place."

"I understand, Sir. But when Thor came back, he said..."

The President broke in. "Well, my concerns aside, of course I said yes! Excuse me if I sound a bit like the proverbial doormat when I say that there was no way I was going to say no to the little guy with the big spaceship and the probably, lets be honest, terrifying space guns! Can you imagine? No, Mr Thor...zap! Fried Henry!"

George Hammond grinned. Status aside, he really liked this man. And boy, could he boil down a complicated question till you got the simplest answer?

'Fried Henry'? Oh, but yes!

He didn't quite manage to keep the smile out his voice. "That _would_ be a little inconvenient for you, Sir. So, how do we go about this?"

"George, they can embark on a relationship, so long as it doesn't interfere with their duties. To be honest, I'm stilla bit surprisedabout meeting the little guy and that's pretty much as far as it goes, so far. I'm having Margaret draw up a document right now that gives my permission, but leaves the details up to you, as their commander."

There was a momentary silence as General George Hammond, USAF, whom was a shining example of how to serve your country, moved the receiver away from his ear so that he could glare at it.

He put it back only to hear yet more chuckling. "Were you just glaring at me, George?"

He spoke mildly. "I'll have to take the fifth on that one, Sir."

Still the President chuckled, but became quiet after few moments. "George, I trust you. I trust your judgement. You're a good man, a great officer and you know these two almost better than anyone. If you think that they can handle it..."

"I do, Sir."

"...Good. But I know enough about you to realise that you won't let it get out of hand. So _don't_."

"I'll do my very best, Sir."

"I'm sure you will, George, I'm sure you will." His tone became lighter again. "I have thought of a couple of things that I'd like you to pass on to them since I spoke to Margaret, though. Firstly, can you make sure there is no groping in the gateroom? Because it doesn't look good and, in truth, I just wanted to say 'groping in the gateroom' to somebody. Looks like you're the one who gets to hear it!"

Hammond smiled. "I am certain that neither Colonel O'Neill or Major Carter will even have to be told to use the utmost discretion, Sir."

"Just what I like to hear. And secondly...well, this next bit is really important, George. I know this might be a bit...shall we say, sensitive? But you gotta order to them to restrain themselves when they're away. Particularly on the more unusual planets. The guys over at NASA will have my hide when the Stargate Program goes public if they find out that there has been prior unofficial research into, um...offworld 'relations'." He chuckled. "They thought they were clever looking into the effects in zero-g. Not that I think they were _looking_ looking. Can you imagine their excitement when they find out?" He put on a squeaky voice. " 'Ooooh, we can research 'relations' in 0.757 g's!' " He was again laughing outright. "Scientists are really funny sometimes!"

General George Hammond had been about to raise his coffee cup to his lips, but had put it back down during _that_ particular little speech.

He managed not to laugh himself, though, despite the unbidden vision of vast numbers of men in white coats holding up scorecards that popped into his mind.

"I am sure they wouldn't even consider it anyway, Sir."

"Great. I'll have the document sent to you within the hour. That's pretty much it for me here, I have to speak to the President of Burundi in a few minutes. Though I understand that one of your staff might be running some sort of pool...?"

George Hammond huffed. "Seargant Siler. Not that you heard that from me, Sir."

He heard the phone being tapped on a surface of some sort for a few seconds. "No, George, this is a _very_ bad line. Could you put ten on for me? On, say, them being together by the end of the day?"

He smiled. "I could indeed, Sir, but if I could advise you, the smart money and by that I mean _mine_, is going on tomorrow."

"I'll go with that then, George!"


	8. The Colonel And Confusion

Disclaimer: Just having fun with the characters for a little bit. Promise to give them back. Don't own them, never will. Sigh...

Author's notes: Hey to the following for reviewing the last chappie. _feb04 _(it makes me glad that you can imagine him saying so), _Verb _(shaking his booty? lol!), _Desert Blossom-by-the-Sea_ (you could see it? whoo-hoo! I'm a-happy dancing, here!), _BookWorm37_ (honest to goodness, only thought of it when writing, lol!), _kittn_ (breathe, doll, breathe!), _t-sport _(alright, now! lol!), _stargategal_ (quiet in the library, please, lol!), _Natters_ (as always, grateful for your giggles), _Gwil _(thanks for being my funometer, doll!), And, as always, to everyone at _As The Stargate Turns._ Possibly the most fun, babelicious (Phil and Matt aside, does hunkalicious sound ok to you two? lol!) and productive Stargate writer's group on on our small planet! Thanks to you, one and all.

**The Colonel And Confusion**

He opened the door, only to see a child sweep by on rollerskates. Maybe rollerblades, he just couldn't tell.

Certainly a child though.

A small, grey child.

Or not.

Because that didn't make sense. Did it?

General Hammond, he knew, would not allow the use of rollerblades on base, let alone the whole child issue.

He was only sure, of course, because he had asked for the very same on-base transport allowance himself, once upon a time.

He took the time to remember his C.O.'s ever so slightly sarcastic response. With hindsight, maybe his request had been a _little_ unrealistic.

He screwed up his face.

He'd just been seeing things. Really, he had.

Despite a lifetime in the military, it was just waaay too early for him.

He had never been overly fond of mornings. Even as a basic concept, they sucked. Of course, this wasn't the morning. This was the afternoon. But he had just woken up from a nap, so it was_ like_ a morning. The theory held water, in his generally very much ignored opinion.

He shrugged and started to make his way to General Hammond's office.

Goddamn the extremely nice and important man, who'd woken him up just when he was getting involved in a seriously interesting and somewhat clothesless dream about...whoa, Jack!

Nope, he never thought about _that_, consciously, not if he could help it.

_Much_.

As he loped, somewhat dazedly, around the corner of the corridor, he found himself bumping directly into a large and immovable object. He lifted his eyes, which had been focussed at floor level, probably because he was sulking a tad about being ripped away from the pleasantly sleepy imaginings that he would deny unto _death_, only to find his gaze in close proximity to the gleaming white teeth of a certain Jaffa warrior.

That was odd.

Teal'c was smiling.

In fact, that was not true. He had seen Teal'c smile before.

No, he really had.

But this wasn't smiling in the normal sense of the word. This was a grotesque version of a grin. He was pretty sure that despite their current location _under a mountain_, there were currently people in New Mexico being permanently blinded by...whatever _that_ was that T was doing with his _face_.

Possibly also in _Argentina._

"Teal'c." It was almost a question. But apparently not quite enough.

The eyesight inhibiting one inclined his head and said, "O'Neill." Then he started with the whole bunch of disturbing rent-a-smile thing again.

God, but his teeth were _white_!

"Why are you..._smiling_, Teal'c?"

"I am not, O'Neill."

Well that just plain old wasn't true. The 'grin' remained. OK, it wasn't a smile as such, at least not a good one if you weren't going for the scary serial killer look, but it was a clear, if alarming, attempt at such.

He shook his head, somewhat dazedly, and started to move around Teal'c to continue on his way.

As he did, he felt the cogs in his mind finally kick into life. He could do that in a split-second offworld, straight from sleep, if the situation demanded it. But that was only because he never truly rested between gating out and getting back. Not really.

As his mind ground into gear, he suddenly realised something that should, in all honesty, have been obvious to him from the very moment he had opened the door to his quarters. The little skater had been really too gray to be considered healthy and his eyes had been very big, dark and familiar. Also, there was the naked issue.

Huh.

So no.

Not a child at all.

He turned back to his friend, whom appeared to be readying himself for a desperate chase after the currently extremely mobile possible alien infestation of the base.

"Oh, and one last thing, Teal'c."

Said Jaffa warrior raised an enormously self-satisfied eyebrow, which coupled with the grin borrowed from one of Satan's sofa buddies, was just too much.

Especiallyas he had just woken up, for cryin' out loud!

"Your impression of the police detective Columbo is indeed adequate, O'Neill. However, I think you will find that my own is far superior."

_What?_

"Ack!" He scowled and waved an ever so slightly irritated finger at the big man.

"I'll think about that later. Stop trying to dodge the bullet, Teal'c. That wasn't a kid, was it? And by the way, you can drop the seriously distressing smile thing now."

Teal'c looked almost relieved to let his featuresfall into their customary and kinda blank state. "No, indeed, O'Neill. That was Thor."

Oh, crap! There was just no way that this could _ever_ be good.

"What was he _doing_, rollerblading around the base?"

Teal'c raised an eyebrow. "He was not rollerblading, O'Neill. He was rollerskating."

Like that made any kind of difference! "Ooookay. And, if may I ask, why?"

"Thor did consider rollerblading, but thought that rollerskating would be a wiser first choice. I believe him to have been correct. His ankles are indeed quite fragile."

In frustration, he raised an eyebrow of his very own. "That's not exactly what I was asking, Teal'c."

There was no visible reaction from his friend. "I know, O'Neill. But any further information you require pertaining to this matter will be forthcoming from GeneralHammond when you arrive at his office."

Colonel Jack O'Neill employed his most grimacey grimace. "You aren't going to tell me, are you, Teal'c?"

He watched as his friend's face took on the subtle Jaffa cast of 'smug'.

"Indeed, I am not."

Oh, but darn him!

He turned away in disgust, marching himself away in his most repellant 'grumpy colonel' mode.

It kept him from being talked to by the geeksquad. Or anybody else, for that matter.

Which, given the lack of information he'd gotten from his friend-of-a-thousand-hats, was probably a good thing.

Oh, look! He'd just been woken up and had also been denied information by a supposedly reeeaaally loyal member of his own team,so he _was_, in fact, the repellantly grumpy colonel!

He glared at a passing SF, who flinched.

That made him feel a little better.

So much for Teal'c, though.

Gah!

So much for friends!


	9. The Major Of The Moment

Disclaimer: Just having fun with the characters for a little bit. Promise to give them back. Don't own them, never will. Sigh...

Author's notes: thanks to the following..._Queen Tigress _(sorry to have confuzzled your pa, and by the way, you both read and reviewed in under two minutes, which must be some kind of record, so thanks and well done, lol!), _Desert-Blossom-by-the-Sea _(that would be a wise precaution. Indeed!)_, kittn _(keep on laughing, sweetie!), _Lorettakay _(you only have to wait now until you've finished reading this rather verbose set of author's notes, lol!), _BookWorm37 _(Hammond's office, coming right up), _Verb _(you're an Asgard? Cool!), _Jennyvre Moss _(nice to know you can picture it!), _CrystalClear444 _(glad you likey!), _feb04 _(no jitterbugging, I'm afraid!) and _chaotic pink chocobo _(great name!). Andmy bestest to all at _As The Stargate Turns, _as ever. Please note that there are some distinctly suggestive comments made towards the end of this chappie, but I hope that I've kept them within the ratings boundary. It is never my intent to cause offence when I write so I hope y'all enjoy this for the lighthearted fun itis supposed to be! Bestest wishies and big grins.

**The Major Of The Moment**

It was a strange moment.

She was all too sure she was gaping in shock.

She wasn't, however, too sure she'd heard the General exactly correctly.

She spent a few seconds desperately trying to convert what she had just heard into orders about the naquada generator she'd been working on. Or the next mission to P9O 672. Or the introduction of purple combat wear. Or the fact that she ate all of the blue jello that was ever brought on base. Whatever.

It didn't work.

Oh.

She glanced towards the Colonel, who just shrugged, looked as shocked as she thought she did, and said, "Nothing to do with me, Carter."

She liked to think there was a small spark of hope in his eyes, though. She certainly was feeling some. More than some.

They both turned back to the General, unsure of what to say or do.

He just smiled at them both. "I have the President's signed permission, which should be..." he looked through the file that sat on his desk, then slammed on the intercom to Walter Harriman. "Where is that paperwork, Sergeant?"

"Uh, I'll bring it in now, Sir."

General Hammond looked a little exasperated as he turned the intercom off. "I'm sorry, Colonel, Major. That paperwork should have been my hands a couple of hours ago, but to be honest, I've spent my time worrying about this conversation. It is new and certainly, I hope, unique in my career. It's also, to tell the truth, a little awkward," he finished wryly, but warmly.

She flicked her gaze towards her C.O. again, only to see that his eyes were narrowed suspiciously.

She looked back to the General. Awkward didn't quite cover it, she thought. The time they had been daubed in violent pink facepaint on P9Z 362, only to realise after they had gated home that it would take weeks to wash off? Yes, awkward. Their recent return from P5X 397 in a moderately advanced state of undress? Still trying not to think about it and yes, a truly comprehensive example of awkward.

This? This was just plain weird!

There was a knock on the office door.

"Come in."

A flustered looking Walter Harriman bustled in bearing a single piece of paper.

And Jack O'Neill instantly made his move.

He intercepted the Sergeant, whipping the document away from him and with a quick, "If I may, Sir?", read it in it's entirety in what seemed like only seconds. He handed it on to the General when he was done. He was back in his postition standing next to her before Walter had stopped inspecting his newly empty hand. The General, the Colonel and the Major watched as he shook his head and turned, making his way out again.

He looked towards her and spoke. "Carter, I've had feelings for you for a long time. I like you very much, well, too much until about ten seconds ago, and I would like to get to know you a lot better. Would you go out with me?"

It was the question she had waited so long to hear.

Yet something, she realised, was drastically wrong.

His tone was off and he hadn't even waited until they were alone to ask.

Then he turned his face fully away from the others and started signalling her.

Sort of.

With his eyes.

In fact, she wouldn't so much say signalling, as having them scream at her.

'Say no, no, no, no, _nooooo_!' was what they cried.

That was kind of hurtful. But she trusted him implicitly.

So she shook her head slowly, not breaking way from his gaze.

Her answer was hesitant.

"Um...no, Sir?"

She could see him internally leaping for joy in the moment before he whipped his head around towards Walter, who was still lurking in the open doorway. The Sergeant was aghast, obviously floored by this particularly unexpected turn of events.

"Oh well, never mind!" the Colonel said cheerily, rubbing his hands together.

He turned his attention to the General. "If that's all, Sir, I'd like to thank you for your efforts and request that we be dismissed."

George Hammond looked curious at what had just transpired, but nodded his assent. "Dismissed."

The Colonel looked back to her. "Coming, Major? I feel the need to mark this great non-event with some cake!"

He didn't wait for her, just sweeping out of the room, past the totally befuddled Harriman, with his head held high.

As she started to follow, George Hammond spoke quietly enough to only be heard by her. "The Presidential permission holds, Major."

"Thank you, General," she replied softly. She smiled brightly as she left.

She caught up with the Colonel in a quiet corridor on the way to the commissary. When she fell into step beside him, she risked a tentative, "Sir?"

Jack O'Neill just looked at her and grinned widely. "If it isn't my hard-to-get second!" He leaned in towards her a little, lowering his voice. "Don't worry, Major, I'll be asking again _tomorrow_." He chuckled evilly.

For somebody so well practised at playing stupid, he sure knew how to confuse her sometimes.

She waved her hand back in the vague direction of General Hammond's office. "So why the..?"

He broke in. "Siler, Carter. _D'uh_!"

She blinked at the odd tangent the conversation was taking. "_Siler_, Sir?"

He was still grinning. "Yes, Siler. That paperwork was way too late, so he probably knew from Harriman before _we_ knew from Hammond about the 'thing'. Soooo..."

She was horrified and stopped walking. "You think there's a _pool_?"

He turned to her and snorted. "Ya think there's _not_?"

As the light of true understanding of the lengths that a certain Colonel would go to just to thwart the gating gamblers of Cheyenne Mountain dawned, Major Samantha Carter brewed up an evil grin of her very own. "You think he's already been paying out on _today_?"

He shrugged nonchalantly, his eyes shining with mirth. "Ya think he _hasn't_?"

She was very impressed at his devious machinations. "Way to get back at 'em, Sir! Pure genius!"

He waggled his eyebrows and gave her_ the _lopsided smile, the one she liked so much. "Takes one to know one, Major."

She began to giggle. The thought of Siler having to try and get back the 'winnings' he'd paid out today was just too funny. She slapped an extremely sloppy salute to her head. "Good luck with those Marines, Sergeant Siler! I salute you!"

His adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed a guffaw, put on a mock-serious look and barked, "No giggling, Major! This is a very serious matter!" His face contorted as he tried not to join her in what was rapidly becoming a descent into outright hysterical laughter on her part.

She, however, just couldn't stop. She had a sudden vision of Colonel Dixon hitting the injury prone Sergeant over the head repeatedly with an inflatable mattress, complaining all the while about the cost of diapers. It was too much. "Sorry, Sir!", she gasped, wrapping her arms around her ribcage to try to stop herself. "But when...oh god...when do you think...Siler will...next be in...in the infirmary?"

Colonel Jack O'Neill looked at his watch, seemingly considering the matter seriously whilst barely holding his composure.

After a few moments, he cleared his throat. "I've got ten that says within fifteen minutes."

She clapped a hand over her mouth to stop herself shrieking in amusement. She fought to compose herself for a long minute or so, before peeling the fingers away. "I'll take half an hour then."

"Done." He changed tack, his face becoming almost boyishly eager. "You're a scientist, right?"

She looked at him wryly. "How long have we been working together, Sir?"

He smiled. "I'll take that as a _yes,_ Carter. So, scientifically speaking, would you say that midnight tonight will really be tomorrow?"

Her heart leapt in her chest, but she kept her voice steady. "I would agree with that assessment, Colonel."

His smile widened. "In that case, Major, will you be free at midnight? I have a question to ask you."

She sighed and tried to sound a little sad. "I think I might be too busy for any questions tonight, Sir."

"You might be? Doing _what_?" The questions flew out and there was a definite edge of panic to his voice.

She took a half-step towards him and looked up, gazing deeply into his eyes, speaking but one word slowly and in a suddenly husky voice.

"Kissing."

It had the desired effect. She could have sworn that he made some strangled sounds, before his eyes widened and his gaze seemed to flick down to his feet, then back up to her. He pulled the front of his green shirt downwards and began to speak haltingly.

"Um...I...um, I can't go to the commissary right now, Major. Need to...um...shower." He shook himself, clearly trying to think of a polite reason for the sudden diversion. "Um...I just woke up. So you go, eat cake. Eat my piece, too."

She grinned and he groaned. "Oh crap, I just said that, didn't I?" At her slight nod, he continued, despite being clearly embarrassed. "You know what I meant, Carter."

Oh she did, but this was too much fun! She looked at him, making sure that her eyes virtually bled innocence, her voice doubly so as she enunciated each word precisely and slowly. "Yes, Sir. You want me to eat your cake."

His jaw dropped for a moment, before he snapped it shut and damn near whined, "No fair, Carter! Go. Commissary. Now. _Please_!"

She smiled, took pity on him and turned away.

When she sauntered off in the direction of the commissary, she threw a happy, "See you _later_, Sir", back over her shoulder.

She managed to shoehorn herself into a somewhat more professional demeanor by the time she arrived there, any initial outward curiosity from staff gathered there waning when they noticed the slightly frosty look she had purposely painted onto her features.

The two pieces of chocolate cake she chose helped as well. Everybody at the SGC knew that when Major Samantha Carter got double helpings of dessert, it was time to find somewhere nice and safe to hide from the technobabble. Fortunately, as they had access to the stargate, they could seek said refuge on another planet if things got really bad.

So the Major was given a wide berth and left in peace as she manoeuvered herself onto a chair at a table in the corner.

Which was nice.

As she dug into the whole heap of calories on her plate, she was cool on the outside, but on the inside it was a different matter.

She was mentally doing the foxtrot, the mambo and the charleston, all at once. Which, when she automatically tried to figure it out, was more than a bit strange. So she simply stopped.

She had other, far more important things to think about.

Like what kind of a perfect day was this, where she could eat two slices of double chocolate fudge cake whilst thinking freely of Jack O'Neill, who was currently in the _shower_, for cryin' out loud?

And Holy Hannah, she was beginning to sound like him already!

She glanced a the commissary clock and suddenly she couldn't help it any longer. She grinned at the large forkful of cake she was holding.

Seven hours, thirty-six minutes and forty-eight seconds 'til tomorrow.

_Sweet!_


	10. And Finally, The Fun!

Disclaimer: Just having fun with the characters for a little bit. Promise to give them back. Don't own them, never will. Sigh...

Author's notes: thank you kindly for all the reviews of 'The Major Of The Moment'. As this is the end for this particular fic, I would very much like to thank everyone who has taken the time to review the previous nine chappies thus far. So, in no particular order, ta very muchly to..._Maggie Eaton, chaotic pink chocobo, StargateFan, Matt1969, Queen Tigress, Verb, feb04, CrystalClear444, Jennyvre Moss, BookWorm37, shiny silver girl, gatewatcher, Lorettakay, kittn, Arrant Schemata, Desert Blossom-by-the-Sea, Natters, Intergalactic smart-ass, stargategal, t-sport, Delilah Wigglesworth, akiko-dono, Peri of the elves, Gwil, Dragonchaos, PhDelicious, Albi, Vid Z., kippling croft, janissima, lynnmichelle, Su Freund, Sci Fi Fan Gillian, LJEvans, Augusta, beverlycat, MandySg1 and WarmTea. _Without your reviews, I would have given up before now and would be sulking in the 'ultimate fit of despond', as my other half would call it! My thanks also to anybody yet to review, of course, nudge nudge, lol!

An extra nod to both _feb04 _and _Delilah Wigglesworth._ You know why, laydeez!

Big hugs to all at the _As The Stargate Turns _writing group, especially to _S.A, _known in these here parts as _SecretArt_, for setting a challenge some time ago to write a ficlet containing the word 'jam'. Without that challenge, this fic wouldn't exist in the first place!

So here we are, people! The final part of 'P5X 39 Whatever!". Thank you all for going on this unexpected little journey with me. I have changed the format for this last chapter, using multiple points of view etc. to attempt to squeeze every last drop of humour that I can out of it for you. I hope you have enjoyed reading this as much as I have enjoyed writing it for you. Bestest wishies to all. Jean.

**And Finally, The Fun!**

Being a military man, he had arrived at her home precisely on time.

Being a military woman, she had been waiting at the door.

They were both so nervous, and just seeing her, wide-eyed in the porchlight, was enough to make his brain go kersplooie. All of the almost poetic (by his standards) speeches that he had been praticing for the last few hours, hell, if he was honest, the last few _years_, had run out of his brain like melted butter off a new potato the very moment he saw her.

He couldn't think straight, so he simply spoke without doing so, his voice shaky. "Samantha Carter, I love you."

He grimaced, watching as she sighed and rested her head against the side of the door. He been here five seconds and he'd blown it already...he was only supposed to be here to ask her out on a date, for crying out loud!

"God, I'm so sorry, Sam." His shoulders slumped and he must've looked mortified. "Could I be any lamer?"

She laughed gently and took a half-step forward, reaching out to lightly brush her fingers through his eternally unruly hair.

"That was not lame, Jack O'Neill." She moved her hand to cup his face. "Love you back."

The world froze, but then a slow grin crept across his face.

"Sweeeet."

She pursed her lips together for a moment in thought. Her following question was a little awkward. "Jack, er...I...do you want to come in?"

"_Yes_!" he virtually barked, surprising them both.

As he stepped into her home, he looked down at her. "Was that too..._eager_?"

She smiled. "Under normal circumstances, I would say yes, Jack."

She obviously liked saying his name. He sure as hell liked hearing it from her.

She tilted her head. "But today, I would have to say _no_."

She shut the front door and took his hand.

Within minutes, there was definitely some kissing.

Later on, in truth, there was a whole lot more.

-----

As the elevator doors closed, she began to hum a tune.

He cleared his throat. "Humming, Major?"

Her eyes shone. "Am I, Sir?

He sniffed. "Yes, Major." He paused, enjoying the moment. "Soooo, he's humworthy, huh?"

Her answering tone was light, yet professional. "I would have to say so, Sir."

He grinned, wickedly smugly, as she began to hum again. Damn, but he was sure that he had heard that tune before! He figured it must be the theme to one of those sci-fi shows that Teal'c loved to force them to watch.

It didn't matter. She was certainly putting a happy spin on the tune, whatever it was.

He listened for a few seconds, before starting to hum along himself, in counterpoint.

She stuttered to a halt, swinging a very bright and inquisitive gaze towards him.

"Humming, Colonel?"

He stopped and answered mildly. "Indeed I am, Major."

She smiled. "Soooo, she's humworthy, huh?"

He waggled his eyebrows. "Yeahsureyabetcha!"

She fixed her gaze back on the elevator doors, with a slightly triumphant look on her face.

Then she spoke again.

"Sweeeet."

She picked up the humming again and he joined her.

They didn't stop 'til the doors opened.

As they walked out of the elevator, he asked her to accompany him.

Apparently there was something really_ important _they had to do.

She simply followed him.

**------**

Well, this was strange.

They'd walked into the gateroom and were standing at the bottom of the ramp, for no discernable reason. She looked around, trying to work out what earth-shatteringly important issue could have brought them here. Alien invaders? She couldn't see any. The imminent destruction of the planet? It didn't look like it. The prevention of the shipping of precious blue jello to her dad (it was all hers, he just couldn't have it)? No. Her staple foodstuff was safe. In fact, everyone just seemed to be going about their business. So she was clueless.

But only for a moment or two.

She glanced at Jack. He winked at her and then clapped loudly, calling the attention of everybody present to them.

Oh, but he wouldn't! Would he? The look in his eyes told her otherwise. Holy Hannah!

"Alright, campers! I think there are some wagers that are just crying out to be settled today. So to confirm the status of a certain relationship, I am about to indulge in some 'major kissage'."

She barely had time to groan at his turn of phrase before he swept her into a graceful dip and his lips descended onto hers, making her decide in a split second that some things really were worth putting up with bad punning for.

Really.

-----

Daniel walked into the gateroom and over towards the ramp, stopping dead as he looked up from the file he was reading, a few meters away from Jack and Sam.

Who were kissing.

Boy, were they kissing!

Oh lord, but they were hot!

He'd always thought that they would be, but...hold on, why were they doing this _here_?

He looked up in panic towards the control room, only to see General Hammond staring back down at the scene. The base commander moved away from the window in a hurry. It appeared that he was making his way down to the happy couple.

He had to do something!

He started by clearing his throat. Then he coughed, repeatedly. Finally, he tried speaking. "Uh, guys..?"

Major Samantha Carter whipped her head around towards him.

"Busy, Daniel."

Colonel Jack O'Neill shot a withering glance at him. "What Sam said."

They they picked up right where they had left off.

With the kissing.

He gave up and just let himself be happy that they were happy. They looked so good together.

He still couldn't prevent his flinch as he heard the loud footsteps entering.

General Hammond did not look terribly pleased.

Uh-oh!

**-----**

"Colonel O'Neill, Major Carter, you will stop groping in the gateroom _immediately_!"

His order was strictly given, despite the fact that he was jitterbugging with happiness on the inside. He'd just won a boatload of cold, hard cash and the commander-in-chief would probably laugh his presidential socks off when he heard that he had actually issued the phrase 'groping in the gateroom'.

The Colonel in question simply straightened up, setting a wildly blushing Major back on her feet, and sent him an innocent look that had no place on the face of a man of his age.

Then he grinned. "That wasn't groping, General. That was _kissing_. Now _this_ is groping."

He reached behind Samantha Carter and appeared to grasp...well, her behind.

She actually squeaked and jumped about a foot into the air, but just about held her countenance. Albeit that she looked a little distracted and a whole heap of embarrassed.

"Colonel!" It was supposed to be a warning, a reprimand, but by then he just couldn't keep his joy out of his voice.

Said Colonel was still grinning widely. "With all due respect, it isn't working, sir. It's sooo hard to be full of authority when you're smiling that much, don'tcha think? So, do tell, how much have you _won_?"

"Two hundred dollars and I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about, Colonel." He narrowed his eyes and shifted his gaze to Sergeant Siler, who was in the corner of the gateroom. "Speaking of which..."

All eyes followed his, and the Sergeant's head dropped into his hands as he realised that he'd been had by a certain Colonel and his Major.

-----

Teal'c was most gratified with the apparent success of the plan he and DanielJackson had devised. From his viewpoint in the control room, he had noticed his archaeologist friend's abject failure to distract O'Neill and MajorCarter from their embrace for long enough to warn them about the impending arrival of GeneralHammond.

It was clear that they were well matched. Naturally, he had known that this would be the case for some time, but the visual confirmation of it warmed his warrior's heart. He was joyous for his friends. He may have even been smiling.

He observed as SergeantSiler became the focus of attention.

The unfortunate Sergeant had had the temerity to demand his money back from ColonelDixon yesterday, in spite of the fact that the officer had been carrying a P90 weapon at the time. The young Colonel had shown an admirable level of restraint, merely shouting loudly about the cost of diapers and other such Tauri childcare necessities before marching away, leaving the Sergeant speechless.

The fates had indeed been with SergeantSiler, and he had avoided another lengthy stay in the infirmary.

And although the area of rearing offspring had never interested him before, Teal'c was most curious about the concept of a babygro. It had never occurred to him beforehand that Tauri children needed outside assistance in this regard. He would request information on this matter from ColonelDixon when the opportunity arose.

He thought it a pity that he himself had never experienced any difficulties in extracting money from SergeantSiler, even when he had, in fact, lost wagers. He had long since prepared a lengthy diatribe bemoaning the financial burden of candles and hats, but it was apparent that his magnificently intimidating speech would never be needed.

Perhaps he was sufficiently imposing already. This thought pleased him.

-----

The already surreal scene took a definite turn for the weirder when the massed gaze of, well, _everybody_, was drawn to one of the gateroom doors.

There was a sound.

Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh.

Then there was an alien.

Thor, on his rollerskates, swept in through one door and out of the other, saying "Greetings, O'Neill and Samantha Carter," in the interim, without stopping.

Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh.

The sound faded.

Jack O'Neill stared at the door through which Thor had departed for a second or two. Then he looked towards General Hammond, confusion furrowing his brow. "Has he been doing that since yesterday, Sir?"

The General sighed, wearily. "He did take a few hours rest, but yes."

The Colonel shrugged. "Well, if you're small, gray and bobbly, I suppose you need a hobby."

He was suddenly very pleased with himself. "Hey, Carter, that was nearly _poetry_."

She huffed at him. "Um, no it wasn't, Sir."

General Hammond interjected. "I'm glad to see we're back to proper military etiquette. Can we see to it that you stick to that at all times in the future when you are on duty?"

They both nodded and answered in agreement, the Major a little shamefacedly. Needless to say, the Colonel clearly wasn't ashamed at all. Not even a little bit.

He smiled at them both warmly. "That's good to hear. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go call the President."

There was a sure spring in his step as he made his way back to his office.

Colonel Jack O'Neill looked at Major Samantha Carter and smiled.

"How do you feel about getting some cake, Major?"

She couldn't help herself. She engaged the vapid smile and innocent tones that had been so distracting to him yesterday. "I think we both know I hate refusing cake, Sir."

He glared at her as he pulled down on the front of his shirt. Again. "You have got to stop doing that, Major. I mean, really!"

She didn't. "Why, do you need to take a shower, Sir?"

He decided it was payback time.

She watched as his face changed from moderately outraged to openly leery and he dragged a decidedly steamy gaze up and down her body no less than three times.

Then he leaned in towards her, his eyes dark, and spoke in the low, rumbling tone that he, never mind she, hadn't ever heard before approximately 0300 that very morning.

"Maybe later."

She gasped, her eyes wide and her mouth falling adorably open.

He smiled in victory, turned and left the gateroom. Whistling.


End file.
